That Way He Has
by Crope
Summary: Mistoffelees ponders over Tugger. Chapter Three up.
1. With the Simplest Things

I haven't given up on To Touch You Is To Know What Happiness is, but I don't have computer access, so I can't update very much.

ANYWAYS, this got stuck in my head. So here you go.

This is all of it. I encourage you to write something of a reply (even though these are just Misto's thoughts) from Tugger's point of view! Just let me know if you do.

I own nothing.

* * *

I live for the nights he comes to me. They are rare but once in a while, for whatever reason, he will seek me out. Maybe Macavity was about, or Etcetera was more energetic than usual, or Bombalurina particularly feisty.

He doesn't show up until very late. He'll just appear by my bed or over by the makeshift window – for one so wont to showboat, he can be extremely quiet. I turn to him some nights and other nights I play harder to get. It depends on my mood, although I'm always willing.

When he touches me, it's like an electrical shock. It's not hard to see why he's so popular. When I'm with him, it's like no one else exists in the world. He just draws me in and then nothing matters but that he touches me, that he keeps on touching me, that his paws, his mouth, never part from me.

They sat that _I'm_ magical, but he's the one who weaves spells with every word, every undulation of his body. He could have any cat he wants – and he does. It makes me wonder, after he leaves, if I'm really the only one he goes looking for.

Of course, I'm the only one who makes him come to me. The others throw themselves at him gladly; he doesn't need to chase them. Oh, I could just as easily join that hoard of fans that follows him around, but that's not my style. I wouldn't be different that way. I wouldn't be special.

He can make anyone feel special, though. With the simplest things.

"Misto." His mouth rests near my ear. One paw rests on my shoulder, the other works its way around my chest or waist. It's not always Misto, though. Sometimes he calls me Mistoffelees or Quaxo. He could call me anything – even by another cat's name or something derogatory – as long as he said it in that way he has.

How is it that I give myself over to him, knowing how he flirts with almost anything that moves? Something about him is just intoxicating. He gets close enough to me and I don't care that he was just wrapped around Bombalurina with Plato slung across his legs. All I care about is being _held_ close to him, my face pressed into his mane.

We were both barely adults when he first came to me. I was soft and quiet; he was quickly gaining his play boy reputation. I never stood a chance. No one does, once he's made up his mind.

I cried afterwards. It was my first time. It was his first time, too, but he wasn't nearly as emotional as me. Perhaps because his first time wasn't _with_ him. Whatever it was, he just ran his paw up and down my spine and let me cry.

Do I love him? Yes. Everyone does, excluding Demeter. How she doesn't, I'll never know. But everyone else loves him.

Am I _in love_ with him? I don't know. When I'm with him, the answer is yes – more in love with him that anyone could possibly fathom. When we're not together, I have no clue. I definitely_ could_ be in love with him, but I don't know for sure if I am.

It's not his promiscuity that causes my doubts. If he didn't chase after other cats, he wouldn't be himself. I wouldn't love him so much.

There are so many things to love about him: his confidence, his body, his touch, his words, his jokes, his energy. But I cannot say that I am in love with him without doubting myself.

I don't think it matters, though. As long as we enjoy our time together.

Actually, if he shows up at all this evening, it'll be soon…I hope he does. I feel like being in love tonight.


	2. So Infuriating, So Alluring

Misto is yet again thinking on Tugger.

This story doesn't have much of plot structure, and might never get one. But I still enjoy writing it, so write it I shall.

Just a note on my characterization of Tugger - while he's a playboy and an all around sex god, I believe him to be intelligent. He's self-serving and knows what he's doing. I really detest fanfics that portray him as a lusty idiot (usually until Misto or Bombi knocks some sense into him.) I sincerely think that Tugger is a smart tom. he just hides it well.

Anyways, this one's a little shorter, but I hope you enjoy it. Please tell me if you do.

* * *

A curious cat? I suppose that's a good description of him. He arouses my interests with the smallest movement. A twitch of his tail and I'm his.

What's horrible is that he KNOWS I'm his. If only I could hide it from him, keep it locked inside like I do with everything else. Let's face it - as Mistoffelees _or_ Quaxo, I'm not the most emotive of cats. As Quaxo, unless it's during a dance, I try to stay out of the limelight. As Mistoffelees, I'm the center of attention, but it's a cold and distant pride.

But he just brings out this side of me that no one else sees. It's his view and his alone - his treasure, he sometimes calls it. I don't see how it's a treasure - my body weak at his touch, my mouth swollen from kisses, my breath short, my words muffled, and sometimes, my eyes teary. I'm not at all my usual self, but some different being.

He loves for me to be that way. I recline on the pile of coats that serves on my bed, or on the ground, or on the old desk I dragged to my shelter. He crawls over me, trailing kisses up and down my stomach. I stifle any reaction until he reaches my lips. Usually he hesitates before kissing me. His breath glides over my face. "You coy thing - stop being _so_ demure. Give me what I come for, the treasure only I can see."

Being the only one to see me in such a state fills him with so much pride - knowing that only he can make me react that way. It certainly doesn't help his ego. That smirk he gets when he sees me - so infuriating, so alluring.

"It's like being the only cat who can see living in a house of blind cats." He told me once. I scoffed at him, but he just continued. "Only I know the beauty of what's to be seen. But it's responsibility, too. I'm the guardian and protector, of something I can't explain. Words can't get it across, Misto."

I swatted at him, but my blush gave me away. He captured my paw and kissed his way up my arm until he reached my mouth.

I just melt into him and let him do as he pleases. If he wants treasure, then he gets treasure. He gets anything he wants.

What does he want? To see me, sprawled helplessly beneath him, back arching as he shadows my outline with his paws, shuddering with pleasure at every kiss. I give that sight to him every night he asks for it. I would even if, for some bizarre reason, I suffered a stroke of stupidity and didn't want to. It's just that way he has - to make me subservient.

I've tried holding everything back but he breaks through every wall I have like he's facing gossamer scarves. With no effort he has captured me and I am slave to anything he wants.

And, even though I am a proud and independent cat, I am happy with my place, and once he's pulled me into our little world - the world that used to be just mine until he invaded - I strive to please him.


	3. Unexplainable

Hello, hello! I'm so happy that this has gotten some attention - I never expected it to.

Many thanks to Stardust shaman, Misto4Ever, Cleo Leo, Rhy-wen, and especially StarWarsMuffin. If it wasn't for all of your lovely comments, this would have just been a one-shot.

All of that said, here's chapter three. It's a bit different, kind of showing off the way Misto can be a bit conceited at times (especially in the video.) Also, it shows how he can be contradictory - saying he tries not to think about Tugger, but this being nothing more than his thoughts.

I know that this one rambles a bit, but they all kind of ramble. I mean, thoughts never just follow one path, they wander off every which way.

Okay, I'm done ruining this by over-explaining. I present to you chapter three.

* * *

He's just an enigma. I can't figure him out. He has this power that he can use at anytime.

Like today. He had Etcetera, most literally, eating out of his paw. That kit would do anything he wanted of her. Contrary to popular belief, however, he wouldn't take advantage of her _too_ much. He's actually a very noble tom. He knows that he's older and that the kits are impressionable. He can be very responsible if the mood hits him.

But other times I just think that he _tries_ to be outrageous. He was showing off his prowess at the pelvic thrust to the kits and he got just a little too close to Jemima. Munkustrap boxed him over the ears and sent him rolling. He just jumped right up and laughed it off.

He came to me that night, raving about how Munkustrap _knows_ that he's just fooling around, that Jemima _understands_ that Tugger likes to play that way, that Munkustrap is _so_ uptight. I ignored him. When he's with me, I don't want to hear about other cats. I just want to hear him talk to me, about me, about how he wants to touch me and kiss me and.....

Not about the others. I don't care who he's with during the day. But come night time, once he's in my little shelter, I want him to be completely mine.

So I didn't even acknowledge his presence until he simmered down. I half expected him to apologize, but why would I expect that? A willing apology from him? I don't think anyone's ever gotten one of those.

Of course, I'm different. His special toy, his secret inamorato. Maybe I should start to expect things like that. But if I did, and he took offense.....he might not return. I would probably lose my mind.

I take pride in my difference, though. Kits are always taught that being different is bad, that standing out can have negative results. But when standing out brings _him_ to your side, then it couldn't possibly be a bad thing. If I didn't stick out the way I do, I'd just be another cat.

The thing is, I don't know exactly _how_ I stick out in his mind. It's not the magic, and I may be slim but so are some of the other toms, especially Alonzo and Tumblebrutus. Perhaps it is, as he tells me, unexplainable.

I like that. Knowing that I bring him - that god amongst cats, sexual fantasy of almost any feline who passes him by, lover to end all lovers - coming back to me, _and he can't explain why_. Something about that is thrilling to me. Sometimes when I'm with him, I start to think about it and I can barely control myself. He always thinks it's something he's done, that maybe he found a sweet spot on my stomach or kissed me just the right way, but it's just the knowledge that I have some control over him.

I know that it's not just me. Bombalurina has some power over him, too.

But I've never seen him look at her the way he looks at me. It's always lust with her, a glint in his eye that says he wants nothing more than physical satisfaction. With me, I see a hint of true feelings, more than just self-gratification.

Perhaps I'm just being conceited. That's something I've always had to deal with - thoughts of superiority just invade my mind. But with him, I don't think that it's unfounded.

And if I'm just another physical experiment to him, I'll never know. I'm not going to ask what's really going on and ruin everything. How could I possibly? Who could knowingly ruin any sort of amorous relationship with him? It's impossible to wrap my mind around it. So I won't. I try not to think about him too much. I just get wrapped up in my thoughts and overload. He bamboozles me.

Like I said, an enigma. And I wouldn't have him any other way.


End file.
